


Episode Twelve:  Primal Instincts

by keirajo



Series: Transformers: Star Voyager [13]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Action/Adventure, Guardian-Ward Relationship, Investigations, M/M, Romance, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-08
Updated: 2018-08-08
Packaged: 2019-06-23 22:53:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15616809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/keirajo/pseuds/keirajo
Summary: On the world of Gaea, a tyrant is terrorizing the populace.Ultra Magnus is about to meet someone he used to know............and learn of some terrible things that happened after he left Cybertron.





	Episode Twelve:  Primal Instincts

**Author's Note:**

> We begin the first part of the Gaea story-arc of the series. :)

Episode Twelve:  Primal Instincts

 

 

            Hun-grr and Snaptrap stood in the throne room, trying to avoid optic contact with one another—while _at the same time_ , tried to glare at each other.   The “ _throne room_ ”, as it was called, had once been the spacebridge room on the colony planet of Gaea………..the remnants of the damaged arch and crushed console in the west area of the room was all that showed that it once connected this colony to the main homeworld of Cybertron.   The one who came to call himself “ _lord_ ” and “ _master_ ” here on Gaea had slaughtered the spacebridge’s guardian—a strong mech named Silverbolt, whose alt mode was a hybrid of wolf and eagle—and rearranged the habitation elements of the old temple into something that suited him as a throne room.

            The two of the lord’s minions gathered today……….they were commanders of smaller forces.  Snaptrap was very secretive and cunning, he led the aquatic-based strike force called the “ _Seacons_ ”—his alt mode was a massive snapping turtle.  Hun-grr had a mild personality, some would term him “ _dumb as a rock_ ”, but was incredibly strong—his alt mode was a twin-headed monster and he commanded the strike force known as the “ _Terrorcons_ ”.   They were both well-respected by their individual teams……….except when it came to **_this_** particular time and turn of the seasons—all respect went straight out of the window, then.

            “ _Dumb season of rut_ ,” Hun-grr mumbled, shuffling anxiously on his pedes, he was never happy to have to be in his primary mode and often wanted to stay in his alt mode.

            “Would you _please_ not say that loud enough for our lord to hear you?”  Snaptrap growled, reaching over to shove the annoyed, dumb mech’s shoulder.

            “He not here, he not care,” the slow-spoken grey mech muttered, shaking his head.

            “I could care less for **_any_** of you wild brats,” a new voice, deep and rumbling, came from the shadows.  The large silhouette kept in the shadows and pulled the throne back into the shadows.  One could only see optics glowing softly beneath the red, tempered glass coverings.  “Have _either_ of you found the wandering swordsmech yet?”  The lord of this group of the Decepticons inquired.

            “No, my lord,” Snaptrap responded, instantly, as he knelt respectfully.  “But all of the villages are currently celebrating the summer festivals and all the activities that come with it.”

            “Cannot attack nothing now, troops busy with summer activities,” Hun-grr added, a bit slower to kneel before their lord.   “Swordsmech likely avoiding all too.”

            The large, shadowed mech’s engines practically roared as his emotions exploded.   There was no EM field, however—only the sound of the roaring engines showed that the Decepticon in the shadows was infuriated.  “Your troops are busy _fragging_ instead of doing their jobs?!”  The shadowed one snarled, optics glowing even more fiercely.

            “Can’t help, they _born_ here—they subject to season of rut,” the grey mech sighed, shrugging his broad shoulders.  He, himself, had been born on Cybertron, so he was not as slave to the biorhythms of Gaea.  “Hun-grr’s pack must rut or they weaken……….. _my lord_.”

            “I am afraid it goes the same for my Seacons, as well,” Snaptrap explained with a sigh.  He, too, was also from Cybertron………so he was also not a slave to Gaea’s biorhythms.

            “Then it falls to _you two_ ………..” the shadowed one growled.  “Go and find me the swordsmech or else I shall rip out your Sparks and feed them to each other!”  He thundered.

            The two mechs groaned and growled and then stormed from the room.

            Meanwhile, far from the old and broken temple, that very same swordsmech was standing just inside of a cave entrance, watching the rain pour from the sky.   His white, with blue-and-red bits of armour, had become dulled and his pedes were covered in mud up to his knee-joints.   The sword in a sheath at his back was at least as long as he was tall!

            “Ah…….where _are_ you, my lady?   It is far too dangerous for you to be outside right now!”  The swordsmech complained, softly, staring into the rainy skies.

            Then he saw a great winged falcon wheeling in the sky above the caverns.  The swordsmech incycled a deep breathy sigh of relief.  The brown-and-gold falcon circled lazily and began a slow, downwards spiral.  Before they came to the entrance of the cavern, they had transformed into a slender femme, landing gracefully in front of the swordsmech at the entrance.

            “Gentle knight……..there is a giant _thing_ outside of the atmosphere—it has been hanging there all day long,” the brown-and-gold colored femme responded, her voice both young and softly-light.

            “A starship?  Here on Gaea?”  The swordsmech murmured, glancing at the sky, even though he knew he would not be able to see the ship through the thick rainclouds.

            But the question now was…………were the ones aboard the ship _friends_ or _foes_?  Were they _Autobots_ or _Decepticons_?   Or were they _someone else_ entirely?

            “My lady, let us go and get cleaned up……..and refueled.  If the weather is clear tomorrow, we will try to find out more about our visitors,” the swordsmech said, softly.   All of the sudden, a familiar ping echoed in his systems and a message popped up on his HUD.  “This………… _cannot be_ ………?”  The blue-and-red mech whispered, softly.

            “What is it, gentle knight?”  The femme asked, worried at the strange tone in the swordsmech’s voice.

            “A strange message has been sent out, by someone who _shouldn’t_ even exist anymore…….on a very old frequency,” the swordsmech murmured.   “Evn if it looks like rain or not, I will _definitely_ be investigating tomorrow.   I think it would be best if you would remain indoors tomorrow, as well…………I’m not certain how all of this will go down, but I plan to prepare for the worst.”

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            “It’s all _wilderness_ down there!   There are no grand structures or hab blocks!”  Hot Rod groaned, looking at all the readouts on the datascreen on Captain’s Chair display area, which was on the left arm side of the seating.

            Since the young flame-colored mech had no particular duties on the bridge and nowhere else to be, really, he’d just begun sitting in the Captain’s Chair so he could watch Ultra Magnus and Drift pilot the _Star Voyager_.   The ship had been named that, by Hot Rod himself, once they left Cybertron.  The flame-colored mech had been very pleased at the name of the ship when he’d come up with it.

            “As I understand it, the foundation of the colony of Gaea is the second closest to bond with nature—they live in structures they’ve built from the colony’s natural materials in village-type groupings,” Ultra Magnus explained, swiveling his chair around to look back at Hot Rod.  “Only Root chose to remain purely organic, adapting their systems with organic elements.”

            “It should be interesting to see what bio-system adaptations that these colonists have……” Drift mused, trailing off as he leaned back in his chair and shuttered his optics for a few moments.  “Magnus……….how will we contact anyone if there’s no leadership and no technology on this colony?  Nor has anyone answered your outgoing message, yet………?”

            “The spacebridge is still showing _viable_ , so someone was probably watching over it until it was taken out from Cybertron’s side,” the old soldier sighed.   “But if Commander Prime was right, then the powerful Decepticon that went through on Liege Maximo’s orders may have killed the gatekeeper.”

            “It’s possible that we _may_ meet one of your old comrades here,” Drift said, thoughtfully, folding his arms over his chest as he onlined his optics and gazed over at Ultra Magnus.

            “But after two million years?”  Hot Rod murmured, concerned.  “That’s a _long time_ to keep fighting……”

            “For soldiers like our unit, we were built to fight until we fell apart or were so damaged in battle that we expired,” Ultra Magnus responded with a wry little chuckle.  “However, Sentinel Prime always said we fought for lasting peace—for a time when soldiers were no longer needed.”

            “Primus, you’re _so hot_ Mags—I _totally_ wanna frag you right now,” Hot Rod purred, getting up from the Captain’s Chair and sitting down in the former soldier’s lap.  “C’mon, _frag-time_ , Mags……….!”  The flame-colored mech moaned, grinding himself against his older lover’s groin-plating.

            Ultra Magnus chuckled and wrapped his arms around the flame-colored mech’s waist.  “Here?  On the bridge?  Is that what you want?”  The former soldier teased.

            “ _Surrrrrrrrrrrrre_ ……..you two waste time and ignore poor Drift,” the swordsmech laughed, warmly.  “Look, I love seeing the two of you interface and all, but…………how about we **_not_** do it on the bridge, dear-spark?”  Drift chuckled, waving his hand at the two of them.  Then, suddenly, a blinking light on the console in front of him caught his attention.  “Looks like it’s time to get serious—someone got your message, Magnus, and they’re responding via code.”

            “This………… ** _this_** is the elite unit’s personal code system—only Sentinel Prime and the Voyager Class unit know of it!”  Ultra Magnus gasped as he listened to the message when Drift opened it on the viewscreen.  He couldn’t help but chuckle at the formality of the code and disbelief within it.  “Whichever of the three of them are here on Gaea—they don’t believe that it’s me,” he answered when the other two looked at him, puzzled.  Then Ultra Magnus gently grabbed Hot Rod around the waist, his hands in the Voyager Armour practically encircling the waist of his young lover.   And in moments, Hot Rod was set on his pedes in front of the old soldier.  Ultra Magnus turned to the console to compose a message in the old unit’s code—asking if there was a way they could meet up and he’d prove that he really was Ultra Magnus of Sentinel Prime’s elite unit.

            “ _Maaaaaaaaaags_ ………” Hot Rod pouted, shuffling his pedes.

            “Quarters.  **_Go_**.  Give me fifteen and I’ll join you,” Ultra Magnus chuckled warmly, smiling at the flame-colored mech.  “Will you be joining us, Drift?”  He asked, glancing at the younger swordsmech.

            “Not tonight, I promised Blurr I’d teach him more about piloting sometime today—after Override lets him go from the engine room,” Drift chuckled.  “How about you enjoy some alone time with Hot Rod tonight, _mmm_?”  He asked, smiling at Ultra Magnus and then he glanced at Hot Rod walking off the bridge, sending him a comm-link.   _::Tease Magnus a little tonight………would you, pretty one?::_

            _::Got it!::_   Hot Rod responded back, sauntering off the bridge.

            Hot Rod hummed to himself as he walked to the quarters that he’d **_personally_** claimed on the ship.   Which were supposedly the “ _Captain’s Quarters_ ”.   But he chose those quarters because they were big enough to fit the three of them, when they all got together.   Drift had chosen some separate quarters, because he said he sometimes liked to have some private time, to meditate and so forth.   Hot Rod felt he _still_ wanted to leave most of the relationship to Magnus right now—and more bonding between the three of them would work out when the time was right.   The young, flame-colored mech _did_ appreciate that Drift was a lot more flexible, because Hot Rod wasn’t sure how flexible **_he_** could be………..he was still very young, after all, and trying to find his place in the universe.

            So, the flame-colored mech was still humming happily as he input the door code and gave a delighted little twirl as he entered the room.   He was getting hotter and _hotter_ just thinking about interfacing with Ultra Magnus………..armour or not, he _really_ enjoyed fragging with the mech he loved more than anything in the universe.   It was always awesome when Drift joined them, too.   As Hot Rod thought about how it felt being with them, the memories of past times they’d all played in the berth—or washracks— _together_ , his engine upshifted and he felt heat between his legs.   The flame-colored mech was still humming as he flopped backwards onto the berth and brushed playful fingers over his groin-plating.

            It felt like _fire_ was rushing through him—and it may well have been.  Since Wheeljack rerouted some of his charge lines, it felt like fuel and charge flowed so much easier through his systems.   Right now, the heat flowing through him seemed to settle deep in his array………..he could feel how _blazing hot_ the plating was between his legs.   As he touched it with gentle and exploratory fingers, it was arousing and felt _oh-so-good_.   Even before Hot Rod realized it, his modesty panels slid open and his sexually-playing servo was met with wet-softness.

            The flame-colored mech purred softly, rubbing the swollen mesh lips of his valve.  He felt a smooth warmth as his fingertips brushed the biolighting that lay in the damp fold running up to his anterior node.  **_OH!_**    He was getting _so wet_ ………..he _really wanted_ Magnus’ spike.   He wanted it so badly, deep in his valve.  For the first time, the other night, he’d had the spike of the armour inside of him—it was pretty awesome, too.

            Magnus had just said “ _both were his design_ ”—as under normal circumstances, the armour was meant to be eternal and **_never_** to be removed.  Therefore the interface array of the armour had a very close similarity to the mech’s original frame design.   But Hot Rod could feel the difference between the two……….it _wasn’t_ just the obvious size, it was also the temperature and carving of the ridges.   Magnus’ natural spike was _so much hotter_ —it felt like it seared the heat of Hot Rod’s own valve every time it entered.  That was not to say the spike belonging to the armour didn’t have its own charms.  The wave-style pattern of grooves seemed cut deeper and they teased more sensation as they pulled at the mesh walls of his insides.  The length also made it easier to nudge the ceiling node without hard or deep thrusting.

            At a point, Ultra Magnus had also explained that removing the armour would be difficult and painful for him—now that he had it on, it would be best to leave it on until they could return home to Corona and live more peacefully together.   Hot Rod understood that—he could also sense Magnus’ discomfort over the entire situation.  So, Hot Rod had decided to be positive and enjoy the enhancements for now— _for Magnus_ ’ _sake_.   Then he looked forwards to having his own beloved Magnus, without the armour, back one day.

            “I see you are already preparing yourself for me, _mmm_?”  Ultra Magnus chuckled as he entered the quarters and saw his young lover spread out on the berth, a servo between his legs and stroking lightly at the pulsing red anterior node.

            “Just messing around,” Hot Rod purred, raising a head to glance at the old soldier as he walked over to the berth.  “I wanted to give you a good show when you got here.  Would’ja hold back and watch for a few moments, Mags?”  The flame-colored mech asked, his optics luminescent with arousal.

            “It would be my pleasure, dearest star,” Ultra Magnus murmured, his deep voice reverberating through two vocalizers.

            _Okay_.  Now **_that_** was fragging sexy!

            Hot Rod moaned as the sound of his lover’s voice sent ripples of pleasure through him.  He shuttered his optics and let his field slide out towards the one he loved so much, craving the response of his lover and protector’s own EM field.  Ultra Magnus rippled his own field out, gently tangling the love and desire in his field with that of his most beloved star’s.

            **/NEED\**         Magnus added into his field.

            **/WANT\**        Hot Rod responded within his field.

            They tangled up so perfectly with one another, drawing passion and desire up from their depths with more heat and more intensity.

            _::In here………deep………… **so want** …………::_  the younger mech said via comm-link as he let his optics come back online.  He reached down and spread his valve lips open wide, rising his lower body up off the berth a little, so Ultra Magnus had a perfect view down into the depths of the wet interior.  Yes, there was clearly _no denying_ how much Hot Rod really wanted him.

            _::I need you, as well, my star…….would you like to see?::_   Ultra Magnus comm-linked, smiling down at Hot Rod.

            _::Please Mags?::_  The young mech responded, hips rocking a little as he determinedly held his valve wide-open, so his beloved could frag him with his optics.

            Ultra Magnus let his armour’s spike pressurize, making sure that Hot Rod was watching the organ become erect.  The flame-colored mech gave a strangled, needy moan and slid fingers inside of his valve using his right servo.  The left servo began rubbing and flicking at his anterior node with agonizing longing for pleasure.

            **/ _WANTWANTWANTWANT_ \**    Hot Rod’s field filled with the desire, eclipsing all other emotions in his field.

            Ultra Magnus reached down and stroked his spike lazily, until drops of pre-transfluid emerged from the tip.   He kept his eyes on Hot Rod’s fingers and the needy valve gobbling them up.  The flame-colored mech mewled achingly, shoving and thrusting his fingers as deeply into him as he could, pinching and tugging on his swollen anterior node.   It was a good show they were giving each other, that was for sure.

            _::What about your spike, my star?  Will you show me that as well?::_   The old soldier comm-linked, smiling down at him as he still stroked and tugged at his erect spike.

            _::Yeah………. **wanna** ………..::_  Hot Rod responded, opening his spike panel eagerly.  The grey organ pressurized and the biolights pulsed just as frantically as the ones inside of his valve.

            _::Very beautiful, my darling star,::_ Ultra Magnus praised, jerking his own spike a little harder.

            Hot Rod’s mewling turned into keening as he dug his right servo’s fingers deeply into his valve and played hard with his anterior node.   He was gonna overload soon if nothing else happened…………but he really wanted to overload at Ultra Magnus’ touch— _not his own_.

            Suddenly, the red-white-blue mech climbed up onto the berth and reached down to haul the flame-colored mech’s hips up, so that he was nearly upsidedown.   Ultra Magnus gently pulled his young lover’s fingers out of the greedy valve and lowered his mouth to it.  The old soldier pressed his glossa past the swollen mesh of the lips and into the hot wetness, swiping it back and forth along the interior walls.   His own lips were practically melted to the rim in a deep and wet kiss with his young lover’s valve.

            Hot Rod squealed and squirmed frantically as he reached up and grabbed the pillar-shaped audial kibble on Ultra Magnus’ helm.  He held his older, most precious lover down………..keeping the old soldier’s lips attached to his needy young valve.  The flame-colored mech babbled nonsense and keened with longing.   His EM field filled with _nothing but want_ as the mech he loved more than anything ate out his valve straight into an overload.   When Hot Rod overloaded, his pedes slammed down hard on Ultra Magnus’ shoulders, between the pillared kibble and the neck fairing, and he pushed his valve up into his lover’s mouth.

            The old soldier couldn’t help but chuckle at Hot Rod’s sexually-demanding body.   The young valve rippled with released charges, leaving a taste of burnout against his glossa, as the calipers desperately tried to clasp the thrusting mouth organ.

            “Ah, Primus……….that was _fragging fantastic_ , Mags………..” the flame-colored mech chuckled softly, dragging his servos suggestively along his frame.   “But………..I _still_ need your spike……….I won’t be satisfied until you hollow me out and send me offline.”

            Ultra Magnus chuckled warmly, smiling down at his young lover.  “Well, I think you’re relaxed enough now for the armour’s spike—and your calipers clearly want something to clutch at,” he purred, leaning over the younger mech.  “As for myself, I think I’d like to be buried in your wet depths.  I want to feel our charges ignite and explode, only to ground out in those plush walls, even as you’re filled with my transfluid……..” the old soldier said, lowering his vocalizer to a barely audible, rumbling pitch.

            “That’s _so fragging hot_ ………..” Hot Rod panted, trying to dive in to capture Ultra Magnus’ lips.  “Why’re you avoiding kissing me?”   He pouted.

            “My dearest star, I just ate out your valve—my mouth tastes like _you_ and _your overload_ ,” Ultra Magnus chuckled, gently swiping a finger along his young lover’s jawline.

            “ _Oh_ ………… ** _OH_**!”  Hot Rod gasped, finally understanding.  Then he ducked his head, shyly.  “I don’t mind……if you don’t mind……..?”  He whispered, looking up into the old soldier’s dark blue tempered glass optic coverings.

            “Very well, then,” the red-white-blue mech chuckled, smiling at the younger mech.  He brushed gentle lips over Hot Rod’s and then swiped the tip of his glossa lightly over the slight part in the flame-colored mech’s lips.   As if he were asking for permission, Ultra Magnus swiped his glossa indulgently over the younger mech’s lips again and they parted eagerly.     The old soldier plundered the glorious wetness of Hot Rod’s mouth and reveled in the younger mech’s response.

            As he kissed Hot Rod, Ultra Magnus had begun rubbing the length of his spike along the wet folds of the younger mech’s valve lips.   The teasing built charge and stoked desire back up to a burning blaze for them both.

            _::Stop teasing, Mags…………and **take me**!!:: _  Hot Rod comm-linked, as his mouth was pretty well-occupied at the moment.

            “So impatient, my fiery star,” Ultra Magnus chuckled, pulling away from his lover’s mouth and settling back on his legs.   “Over, then………..let me see your adorable aft.”

            Hot Rod gave a happy little purr of pleasure.  He quite enjoyed taking it from behind, the angle and sensations seemed perfect for both himself and his partner.   The flame-colored mech rolled over to his servos and knee-joints and spread his legs a little, reaching back with a servo to rub his wet valve lips—hoping to tease his older lover just a little bit more.

            Ultra Magnus gave a little huff and smiled.  “Now, now…………I _am_ going to interface with you, so you can stop playing with your valve,” he laughed softly, letting his field fall over Hot Rod, pulsing with need.

            “If you’d _finally_ frag me, I’ll _stop_ teasing!”  Hot Rod retorted, grinning over his shoulder at his older lover.

            “ _Shameless brat_ ,” Ultra Magnus muttered, but he was still smiling as he pressed the head of his armour’s spike against the entrance of the eager young valve.

            “ _Oooooh, yeaaaaaaaaaaaah………. **gimme**_!”  The flame colored mech moaned, pleasure echoing in his voice and his field as he wriggled his hips eagerly.   He mewled quite happily as the thick head finally penetrated him.   “ _Unnnh_ ……. ** _deeper_** , Mags…………. ** _harder_** ,” Hot Rod whimpered, trying to rock back against him—except for the fact that Ultra Magnus had a very firm grip on his hips.

            _::Like **this**?::_   Ultra Magnus comm-linked as the upshifting of their engines had started to drown out the sounds of their voices, even as close as they were to each other.  He gave a sharp thrust that buried the large spike of the armour in all the way, so that the ring of the baseplating was firm against the wet entrance lips.

            Hot Rod groaned in ecstasy, his engine roaring with excitement, static popping in his vocalizer.  _::Yeah Mags, just like that……..::_ he purred over the comm-link.   _::Hurry!  Frag me **harder**!!!  I wanna overload so bad for you……..::_ he begged softly.

            Ultra Magnus felt the warmth bloom inside his Spark.  He pulled himself upright over Hot Rod’s aft.  Then as he left his left servo on Hot Rod’s left hip, he reached down with his right servo and slid it along the orange thigh.  When the old soldier’s right hand reached the knee-joint, he let his servo cup it and lifted the younger mech’s leg.

            The static-filled babbling of pleasure assured Ultra Magnus that lifting the leg and spreading Hot Rod wider was the exact right thing to do.   So, then he finally began earnest thrusting, with very quick bursts—which had the intention of building charge faster with the sudden friction against all the sensor nodes and clusters deep within the wet and eager valve.

            **/ _LOOOOOOVE_ \**      Came an unexpected emotion, cutting through the thick and obvious “ _want_ ” in Hot Rod’s EM field.

            Ultra Magnus was utterly overwhelmed by it and overloaded _immediately_.  The expelling of charge and transfluid triggered Hot Rod to following him immediately into the bliss of release and a pleasurable offlining.

 

*      *      *      *      *

 

            The wandering swordsmech of Gaea had intercepted the message on the old Voyager Class frequency and knew that he _had_ to answer it—even though he had not been the original recipient of the message.   It was interesting to listen to the old coded message exchange………..one of the parties had introduced themselves as “ _Ultra Magnus_ ” and the other party offered no exchange introduction—just stating that they had not believed that the other one could possibly be the original “ _Ultra Magnus_ ”.  Then they had set up a meeting spot.

            The fact that the old code was used………….the swordsmech knew that _only_ one other mech on this planet _knew that code_ , it was the one he had been seeking all along.   The one he’d fought with on countless occasions since they both arrived on Gaea about two million years ago.   But could this new arrival _truly be_ Ultra Magnus……….the youngest member of the Voyager Class unit—the one who had been sent to recover on Corona four million years ago?

            There was only one way to find out…………

            “My lady, I am afraid this is something that I _must_ investigate.  Please remain here, where it is safe,” the swordsmech said, softly.  “If the original sender of the message really _is_ Ultra Magnus………..he’ll be able to help me stop the tyrant—and then his underlings will stop pursuing you.”

            “You are certain that this is the best path, gentle knight?”  The femme answered, clasping her servos together and wringing them with worry.

            “Yeah.  If I’m right—the one Magnus was speaking with is the one I’m here to find as well,” the blue-and-red mech responded.  He traced gentle fingers along her jaw and smiled fondly at her.   She was so very young and innocent—it was unfair that she had to endure such tragic pursuit because of the prophesy that came out of her village.  “Please rest while I’m gone.  I _may_ be bringing company with me when I return.”

            The swordsmech went to the stated meeting place and saw a tall blue-and-silver mech standing on the edge of the cliff.   Ah, that really _was_ him………….there was no mistaking the colors or the design………..the swordsmech knew it with all of his Spark.   So, if the recipient of the message was here, then where was…..?

            _Ah_ ……… ** _there_**.

            It really and truly _was_ Ultra Magnus—the armour looked like it had been streamlined and modified a little bit, but there was no mistaking the red-white-and-blue armour with its generally boxy-bulky shape.   It could _only_ be the mech he remembered, for the Voyager Class Armour was designed with only its original recipient in mind—the interface ports and systems were designed only for the mech that the armour was given to.  It would take a battery of scientists and doctors— _or a sheer miracle!_ —to redesign the Voyager Armour to take **_another host_**.

            It looked like Ultra Magnus had another mech with him—this one shorter, with grey derma and white armour.  The armour had red patterns and glyphs upon it—plus the mech carried twin swords, one on each of his hips.   Clearly when the two had come upon the silver-and-blue mech waiting for them, there was surprise and suddenly dawning recognition on his faceplate.  The swordsmech began to quietly approach them, doing his best to keep hidden.

            “Deszaras?”  Ultra Magnus inquired.  “Is that _you_?  Are you all right……….?”  He began, concern in his familiar and deep voice.

            Suddenly Drift cut in front of the old soldier, drawing both of his blades instantly.  “He’s **_not_** who he used to be— _look at his chest_!”  The younger mech snapped, keeping his gaze firmly focused on the Decepticon in front of them.

            Ultra Magnus took in the brand of the crowned mask mark on the tall blue-and-silver mech’s chest and refocused himself with determination, backing into a battle-ready stance.

            “ _Deathsaurus!!!_ ”  A powerful voice thundered.  The swordsmech rushed forwards and leapt high into the air with his massive sword drawn.

            “ _You!!!_ ”  The blue-and-silver mech snarled, transforming into his alt mode—a _ferocious dragon_.  “Today you **_die_** , swordsmech—that I promise!   For Liege Maximo and the Decepticons!!”  Deathsaurus roared, plasma-fueled fire shooting from his massive jaws.

            Ultra Magnus waved Drift back and then dashed forwards, taking a jump into the air and boosting himself with vents in his legs.   He grabbed the huge dragon about the neck and hauled backwards with all his strength.   Ultra Magnus swiveled on his pedes the moment they touched back down to the ground, using momentum to throw the beast-form mech about a mile away.

            Deathsaurus roared in absolute fury, just about to propel himself back into the fray with his massive wings……..but then he chose to _retreat_ instead.   He needed to make new plans, now…….both his eternal rival and _the new one_ —the new one that was somehow _so familiar_ —it made his head hurt and his Spark flare painfully.

            No, he could not afford to think about the time “ _before_ ”……..Liege Maximo would have the gladiator punish him again and the purple one do more things to his armour to make it hurt.   Deathsaurus _did not_ want to be punished when he was doing everything he could to work so hard for the Decepticon Cause.   He roared angrily as he jumped into the skies and flew off.

            The three mechs watched the retreat for a few moments, to make sure the battle had truly been ended, before relaxing.

            “Ultra Magnus……….I can’t believe it’s _really you_!”  The blue-and-red swordsmech said, with excitement in his vocalizer.   He reached over his shoulder and sheathed his huge sword at his back, turning to the two mechs with a grin on his faceplate.   “ ** _Oh_**.  _Ah_ , yes—you probably don’t recognize me without my Voyager Armour!   It’s **_me_** , _Star Saber_!”   He introduced with a dip of his shoulder and a smile up at his fellow elite unit member.

            “ _Star Saber!_    **_Ah!!_**    I am glad to see you!”  Ultra Magnus said, breathing a sigh of relief as he realized this shorter mech was someone he knew.   “So……… _Deszaras_ was the one who answered my message, but did _you_ receive it, too?”

            “When I got a ping that the old frequency was being used, I listened in on the responses,” Star Saber said, firmly.  “I knew only one person on _this_ world had the frequency, so I _knew_ Deathsaurus would be here—but I couldn’t be certain of your identity and I admit, I was _very curious_.”  Then the wandering swordsmech paused and looked up into the sky.  “So, is that _your_ ship in the upper atmosphere?   What’s wrong?  Why are you here?”  He asked, softly, looking up at his old comrade.

            “Everything is……. _complicated_ ,” Ultra Magnus answered.  “Drift……..go back to the ship and have everyone hold back— _especially Hot Rod_ —until I get the sit-rep from Star Saber.”

            “Understood,” Drift responded, sprinting back to the shuttle quickly.

            The old soldier allowed the shorter swordsmech to guide him to the caverns he’d been using as a base.

            “My lady!  I have returned with company!”  Star Saber called into the depths of the cavern.

            When the brown-and-gold femme shyly met them a little ways into the cave, Ultra Magnus was surprised at the odd phrasing used—and the very familiar tones of fondness in his vocalizer.  It was a kind of warmth he was familiar with—a love that was _not_ intimate passion, but of a guardian trying to protect a precious youngling.

            “Magnus, this is Airrazor…….I saved her from the Terrorcons, who slaughtered her village,” Star Saber introduced, smiling up at his former fellow elite soldier.  “My lady, this is one of my old comrades, Ultra Magnus.”

            Airrazor folded her servos in a strange gesture, with the fingers pointing towards the ground and then dipped her shoulders in a formal, respectful gesture.   “I have great honor to meet one whom this gentle knight knows and respects,” she said, her soft voice speaking the formal words carefully.

            “You need not be so formal to me—I am merely a soldier and a parent,” Ultra Magnus chuckled.  “And you are still yet very young—you should be allowed _to be young_.”

            Airrazor smiled up at him and relaxed.

            “And _you’ve_ changed, Magnus,” Star Saber chuckled.  “You’ve raised a sparkling?”  He asked, curiously.

            “It’s been a very long time and my years on Corona were very good for me, I think,” the old soldier responded, smiling down at his old comrade.  “I’ve also fallen in love and taken some very large leaps of faith.”

            “Ah, Magnus………if only Sentinel could see you now!  He would be _so pleased_ at the mech you’ve become,” the wandering swordsmech responded, true warmth in his voice.   “I’ll ask for _your_ story shortly, but I can tell you’re worried about Des and the monster he’s become.”

            “The gentle _centerspark_ of the unit……..he’s so angry and dark now,” Ultra Magnus said, shaking his head.

            “I know.  Liege Maximo had this done to him,” Star Saber sighed, motioning to Ultra Magnus to sit down on one of the outcroppings of rock in the cavern.

            After the attack in Iacon, Deszaras had been taken by the gladiator (whom we all know had been later named Megatron) to Liege Maximo.   Star Saber had tried several times to go and rescue Deszaras, but he could never get past the Decepticon forces and his frustration grew.

            It turned out that Deszaras had been tortured horribly.  He never revealed any secrets, so Liege Maximo let his chief scientist deal with the elite unit soldier.  Shockwave tore off Deszaras’ Voyager Armour piece-by-piece at a time, in the most brutal of all fashions—then he remodeled it and reapplied it to Deszaras’ frame.  All of the frame interface plug-ins were modified to become _torture devices_.

            And, worst of all, Shockwave made the reapplied armour **_permanent_** …….Deszaras could never remove it **_ever again_**.  The elite soldier went mad from the constant pain to his frame and finally broke, submitting to Liege Maximo in exchange for drugs that would ease the pain—becoming a completely loyal servant.   And when Liege Maximo sent three of his generals through the spacebridge to the colonies—Star Saber pursued the newly-named “ _Deathsaurus_ ” here to Gaea.

            _::The interface array of the armour was removed, entirely, but all of the plug-ins are still there—you remember how Des was,::_   Star Saber comm-linked the last part of the story, so that Airrazor wouldn’t have to hear about that part of brutality.  _::He has **no outlet** and probably still feels that desire in his original frame.::_

            _::Spawn of the Pit!!::_   Ultra Magnus swore, via comm-link.   “Poor Deszaras—if there was any mech in this universe that did not deserve such a fate, it would be him,” he added, aloud.

            “Since he _cannot_ be saved, I decided that I wish to send him into the arms of Primus by my own hand,” Star Saber said, a deep tone of regret and sadness in his voice.    “However, in one of our battles, he damaged my armour………..I can’t face him head-on in my original frame, so I’ve been trying hit-and-run tactics with him.”

            “ _Mmm_.  He ran from the fight this time, as well—so he may consider my presence a potential threat,” Ultra Magnus said, softly.

            “Your ability was known, if not fully realized,” the swordsmech explained.  “If you gain a weapon, he may truly fear you.”

            Ultra Magnus nodded.  “How bad is your armour?”  He asked, curiously.

            “It’s primarily structural—bashed joints in the left side arm and leg,” Star Saber explained.  “But I’m in no way a medic or a mechanic, so I can’t do anything with it.”

            “I wonder if Override can fix it, being structural?  _She’s_ a mechanic,” Ultra Magnus murmured.   “I’ve pinged Drift to bring the shuttle back, near our location—I’ll take you to the _Star Voyager_ and we’ll see if Override can do something for your armour.   Your ward is very welcome to come along.  She seems as young as Blurr and Hot Rod, so I think she might even be able to make a few new friends.  Blurr’s rather charming and Hot Rod is quite likable.”

            “A change of setting could be good for the _both_ of us.  How does that sound, my lady?”  Star Saber asked of Airrazor.

            “It sounds _delightful_ , gentle knight,” the young femme responded with a smile.

**Author's Note:**

> I wound up putting in another explicit chapter. Sorry guys. *bows* But Hot Rod needs to get it out of his system, because things are about to change for him soon enough.
> 
> Action and adventure follows in the next chapters!


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